


As The Myth Goes

by not_a_total_basket_case



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bellarke, But he comes back, Character Death, F/M, Immortality, Memory Loss, Soulmates, background Ice Mechanic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_total_basket_case/pseuds/not_a_total_basket_case
Summary: As the myth goes, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves – their soulmate. The myth is wrong.Super humanswere originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. And they were too powerful. Zeus split them into two separate beings, taking their powers and condemning them to spend their lives in search for not only their other half, but their powers.*Bellamy and Clarke are soul mates, but they haven't seen each other for ninety seven years.





	1. As The Myth Goes

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, I got this into my head and I had to sit down and write it. 
> 
> Heads up, I know very little about American schooling, nothing about Boston, any history I put into this comes from Wikipedia and I will write most of this after midnight. 
> 
> This was originally based on Hancock (the movie with Will Smith) but it has taken a completely different direction, so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Comments and kudos are the sunshine in my life. Hit me on Tumblr if you have literally anything to say about The 100 or if you have prompts and/or ideas. I love hearing it all.  
> [Writing Is Ruining My Life](http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/) or [Raven Reyes of Sunshine](https://Raven-reyes-of-sunshine.tumblr.com/)

As the myth goes, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves – their soulmate. The myth is wrong.

 _Super humans_ were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. And _they were_ too powerful. Zeus split them into two separate beings, taking their powers and condemning them to spend their lives in search for not only their other half, but their powers.

* * * *

**Bellamy Blake**

The thing is, Bellamy Blake knows he’s arsehole. He knows that he really should be using the powers he is discovering for something other than being an arsehole. But he doesn’t know how.

What he does know, however, is that there is a teenage girl sixteen floors below him, who is about to get mugged. Or worse. And he can’t let that happen. So he jumps to the ground below, putting himself between the man with the knife and the young girl.

“I’d put that down if I were you.” Bellamy says, rolling his shoulders as if the jump had affected him. It didn’t. It was as if he had stepped off the curb, onto the road. He’d figured out he could pretty much jump from anywhere after he’d fallen from a ladder helping Miller and walked away unscathed. Miller had declared him the luckiest person alive and then laughed at his poor balance for hours.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” The man asked, brandishing his knife at Bellamy. Bellamy rolls his eyes, reaching behind him to push the girl further out of harms way.

“Does it matter?” Bellamy asks in his most frightening voice. “I’m here now and I’m telling you to put the knife down and get the hell out of here.” He sees the man with the knife make the decision to lunge at him before he has even moved. Bellamy steps to the side, fast enough that it sends the man sprawling onto the ground. Bellamy kicks the knife away (with enough force that neither of them can see where it landed) and then leans into the mugger.

“Stay away from her.” He gives him a shove for good measure and takes the girl by the arm and leads her back into the safety of the streetlights.

“Th-thank you.” The girl manages to stammer, pulling out of Bellamy’s grip and backing away slightly.

“What are you doing out here on your own at night?” He lectures, “That would have been so much different if I wasn’t there. You could have been killed.”

“I was just trying to get home.” She says, looking around desperately.

“I’ll walk you.” He decides, gruff. “Where do you live?” She tells him her address and they begin the walk in silence. It’s not far but it is awkward. She’s clearly afraid of him but even more afraid of being alone. “What’s your name?” He finally asks, just wanting to break the silence.

“Charlotte.” She tells him. “I was supposed to be staying at my boyfriends but he was being a dick.” She speaks with a little more force this time, clearly upset about whatever her boyfriend had done.

“I’m Bellamy.” He tells her, “I’m ugh, I’m sorry about your boyfriend.”

“If you’re a superhero, you shouldn’t tell people your name.” Charlotte says, looking up at him with critical eyes and an almost smile on her face.

“I’m not a superhero.” Bellamy says, shaking his head.

“You saved me.” She shrugs, letting herself into her building. “Goodnight Bellamy.”

He doesn’t say goodnight to her because he’s so lost in his thoughts. He might be an arsehole, but maybe the best thing for him to do with his recently discovered superpowers is to help people. Maybe he can make a name for himself. Maybe he could be a superhero.

Bellamy has never been anything in his life. He knows that he was an unwanted child. His father left when he was a few weeks old and his mother disappeared for days at a time. At ten years old he became part of the foster system, living with so many different families that he stopped unpacking his bags.

As far as he knew he had no family, which was a shame because he always thought he would make a good brother. Dreams of having a sibling is what had gotten him through his eight years in the foster system.

Between his musings about superheros and his newly found speed he was unlocking the door of the apartment he shared with Miller and Raven far quicker than he should have.

He’d met Miller at the last high school he’d gone to. Bellamy had been living with a couple who didn’t really want him, but had agreed to take him for the four months until he would turn 18. In a moment of drunken vulnerability he had told Miller he was going to have no where to live in less than two weeks, which is how he found himself moving into the spare room at Miller’s dads. He’d even given him the opportunity to start work at the mechanic business he owned. There he had met Raven – graduated high school and waiting a year to start college – who taught him enough to get him steady work.

The summer after he and Miller graduate, they – Raven included – packed their things to move to Boston. Miller and Bellamy had both gotten into Boston University and Raven (no surprise) was attending MIT. None of the could believe how well it had worked out for them, especially not Bellamy. Which is why he wasn’t surprised when he started developing weird abilities. There had to be a catch, everything had been going too good for him.

“Hey Wonder Boy.” Raven calls from the kitchen where she is surrounded by dismantled pieces of what appears to be their microwave.

“What are you doing to our appliances?” He sighs, collapsing on the couch next to Miller.

“Did you grow wings or something cool while you were out?” Miller asks, while Raven ignores him.

“I don’t know why I tell either of you anything.” He grumbles. He hadn’t really had a choice but to tell both Miller and Raven what was happening to him. He initially couldn’t control it and was moving comically fast with no idea how to stop. It hadn’t taken them long to catch onto his other abilities.

“Because you love us.” Raven calls.

“Debateable.” He mutters, turning the TV on with the intent to drown them out. He groans when the screen blinks to life and displays the opening sequence to The Incredibles. Both his friends burst into laughter and Bellamy resists leaning over to punch Miller. He knows it won’t stop them taking the piss.

 

**Clarke Griffin**

Living with Lincoln and Octavia has gotten better over the years, but it is still in no way easy. Octavia still blames Clarke for what happened to her brother. Lincoln still shoots Clarke sympathetic looks far too often. The three of them have such different living styles that they are continually clashing. And every time Clarke looks at Octavia, she sees the man she loves, the one she had to leave behind.

But that’s not to say it’s a bad arrangement. Having three super humans in one apartment makes it an extremely safe place to be. Even if Clarke doesn’t have her regular powers, she still has a keen eye for people who pose a threat. And over her years she has also perfected a lot of self-defence. Octavia and Clarke are basically on good terms again. It has taken them almost a hundred years, but they could finally be considered friends again.

It was coming up to the anniversary of saying goodbye to Bellamy again and as a result, they were all touchy. They’d watched him die – this time shot in a battle – one too many times. It hurt them all, Clarke the most, seeing the life slip out of him _again_. It hurt knowing they’d spend years looking for him again. It hurt knowing they’d have to wait until he reached maturity to try and talk to him. It hurt knowing that they’d have to slowly get him to remember who they were, who he was. It hurt knowing he’d be angry at first, and then guilty he wasn’t there for them. And it hurt knowing it would happen again. Because Bellamy just keeps dying.

And so this time, they had decided not to look for him. If he was away from Clarke, he could live a normal life. He could stay out of the mess that seems to follow super humans. He would be okay. And so would Clarke.

But it had been ninety seven years, the longest any of them had gone without seeing him. It was hard not to want to start looking. But they couldn’t. They couldn’t be that selfish. It’s not like Clarke _needs_ her powers, she makes a good doctor without them. Apart, they pose less of a threat to other people. And they would meet again. They always did.

If she’s being honest, Clarke had thought about dying herself. She would forget she had ever known him. The pain would subside. And once both super humans didn’t have their memories, their legacy dies. They would never have to go through this again.

But would it really be better living a life where she didn’t even know Bellamy existed? No. She was sure about that.

“I made some actual friends and we’re going out to get stupid drunk and drown our sorrows and nothing either of you can say will change my mind on this.” Octavia calls, snapping Clarke out of her thoughts and walking into their shared lounge room. She dumps her coat on the back of the couch and sits down next to Clarke.

“Celebrating Bellamy’s memory by drinking to forget it.” Clarke muses, “Tonight, that is something I can get around.”

“Lincoln, I don’t care what your plans are. Cancel them. We need moral support.” Octavia says, unnecessarily glowering at him. He was her soulmate. He would do anything for her. And vice versa.

“Where did you make these friends?” He asks cautiously. He was by far the most sensible of the three. Overly aware that they were still being sought, wanted for their powers. For the personal gain of others. Another reason that it’s best to keep Bellamy away.

“School.” Octavia shrugs, “Her name is Harper and it’s her birthday, so she’s going out drinking. She invited me and I asked if I could bring you two.”

“I suppose we can go.” Lincoln decides, “I’ll drive though.” Clarke rolls her eyes. Super humans weren’t immune to the effects of alcohol and Lincoln can’t let either Clarke or Octavia drink without being sober to help them.

“We’re meeting at nine, after she’s gone to dinner with her family.” Octavia says, hauling herself off the couch, presumably to start getting ready three hours too early.

Clarke reclines back into the couch, not looking at Lincoln, knowing he wants to talk about Bellamy. Which is something Clarke is definitely not prepared for. It might have been almost a hundred years, but it still felt like a part of her was torn away.


	2. If I go crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finds out Bellamy is close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a pre-warning, this isn’t anti-Lexa, but she is sort of Clarke’s ex. And they did use each other to try and get over someone a bit. Also, she’d be like… 75 or something by now, so she’s not coming back. (I like Lexa, she’s good)
> 
> Chapter title from “Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down

**Clarke Griffin**

Octavia is putting the last pin in Clarke’s hair when Lincoln yells that they’re going to be late. Clarke can practically feel Octavia roll her eyes at him. It’s not like arriving fifteen minutes late to a bar is going to hurt anyone. It would almost be weirder showing up on time.

“What do they know about us?” Clarke asks, studying her reflection in the mirror. She’d let Octavia do her hair and makeup, so she was feeling overdressed. Octavia had pulled bits of her hair into braids, leaving the rest hanging loose around her shoulders. Clarke doesn’t usually wear makeup, so when she lets Octavia do it, it always feels over the top. She’s done a crazy, dark smoky eye, that Clarke likes, but can’t quite get used to, as well as stained her lips red with a ‘ _new lipstick that I just bought because it will look so good on you.’_

“Just the usual. Harper and I are in the same classes, so we’ve been talking a bit. You of all people know how nice it is to talk to someone who you hasn’t known for a few millennia.” Octavia tells her sweetly, but Clarke winces. Clarke, Lincoln and Octavia had been together for so long. They know everything about each other, their quirks, their tells, their likes and dislikes. Everything. Bellamy had too. But sometimes it was nice to talk to someone who doesn’t know literally everything about you.

In the 1960s, Clarke had met a girl, Lexa. At first they were just friends, someone different to talk to, someone who seemed to understand the pain of losing the person she loved most in the world, but then it became something more. Lexa became someone she cared about, someone she loved. Not exactly filling the Bellamy shaped hole in her chest, but easing the pain. To Octavia and Lincoln’s general distaste, Lexa and Clarke dated for six years. But then after a long conversation with Lincoln, many tears and three quarters of a bottle of vodka, Clarke knew it was time to move on. Lexa was aging and Clarke wasn’t. It was as simple as that. She hadn’t noticed yet, but sooner rather than later she would. And they couldn’t risk exposure. Clarke couldn’t do that to her friends. So Clarke left Lexa, carving another hole in her chest and leaving both girls heartbroken again.

“I do get that.” Clarke mutters, shaking her head slightly, trying to clear thoughts of Lexa and Bellamy.

“It wasn’t a dig.” Octavia tells her, running her fingers through Clarke’s hair gently, “They know you’re studying medicine and Lincoln is studying to be a PT and that we’re just housemates who’ve known each other forever.”

“That’s the closest version of the truth you’ve told in a while.” Clarke smiles. Octavia likes to tell elaborate stories on how they met or why they’re living together, or what they’re studying. They’d started out as young as they could here. Octavia and Clarke had just graduated high school and Lincoln is twenty-two. Their story was that they had grown up together; Lincoln had waited for the two of them to finish school so they could move together. They all looked too old for the ages they were trying to pull off, but that just meant that most of the time they weren’t asked for ID and they could stay where they were longer.

“I did like the story where Lincoln rescued me from a burning building and it was love at first sight.” Octavia muses, collecting her makeup from Clarke’s mostly unused vanity.

“That one made me cringe.” Clarke deadpans. “I like the one you told about us having no choice but to move in together and then we both fell in love with Lincoln.”

“That was a little ridiculous.” Octavia agrees, taking Clarke by the wrist and dragging her into the lounge room where Lincoln was waiting.

“Overkill, guys.” Lincoln says, looking at their hair and makeup, but holds the front door open and locks the door.

Octavia convinces Lincoln they should walk to the bar, so he can have a drink. But it’s cold and Clarke feels a wave of jealously wash over her when Lincoln throws an arm around Octavia. Bellamy used to do that for her. She’s not sure how much longer she can go without looking for him. Logically she knows that it will probably hurt more to find him and then lose him again, when he inevitably dies. But she misses him, god damn, she misses him so much.

The blast of warm air from the bar does slightly shake her out of her miserable thoughts and the very drunk blonde flying into Octavia gets them out of her head the rest of the way. She feels Lincoln tense beside her, but then Octavia is hugging her back.

“Hey there, ‘Tavia!” She says, stepping back and grinning wildly. She’s wearing a black dress and a pink sash, that has ‘twenty-one’ written on it in silver. Clarke hasn’t ever heard Octavia gat called ‘Tavia before. Lincoln, Clarke and Bellamy called her ‘O’. She was apparently closer to this girl than she had let on.

“Happy birthday, Harper.” Octavia says, “This is Clarke and Lincoln.”

“The mysterious housemates! We’ve heard so much about you!” Harper says, leading the way back to the table and slotting herself in beside one of her friends. Clarke doesn’t miss the way Harper says ‘we’. Octavia is making close friends, something they had all agreed was too dangerous given what they are. She tries to shoot Octavia a look, but she’s looking at Harper. They can't have people noticing they don't age. 

“This is Lincoln and Clarke.” Harper yells above the noise of the group. “This is Raven, Monroe, Monty, Jasper, Roma, Miller, Murphy and Fox.”

“Fox?” Clarke finds herself asking the girl she ends up sliding in next to. Octavia and Lincoln are beside her, but they’ve been swept into a conversation with Raven and Harper.

“Not my real name.” She says, though Clarke had already guessed that. “For some reason my parents thought it was okay to name me Faye Oliana Xavier, and I can’t go by any of those names. Harper came up with Fox when we were kids and it stuck.”

“I like Fox,” Clarke tells her, “If it makes you feel any better, my parents named me Clarke.”

“First name? Like Clark Kent?” Fox asks, bright like she’s just made a joke that Clarke hasn’t heard before and one that doesn’t make her wince because of the insinuation.

“Like Clark Kent.” She agrees.

“Monroe’s first name is Zoe, Miller’s is Nate and,” Fox lowers her voice, “Murphy’s is John, but the only person who has ever gotten away with calling him that is his girlfriend.”

“We all go by our first names.” Clarke says.

“What do you want to drink, Clarke?” Octavia calls, interrupting Fox and fishing into her purse for ID.

“Anything as long as it’s with vodka.” She tells Octavia, who nods and walks to order the drinks.

“I think I like you.” The girl who Clarke is fairly sure Harper called Raven says, taking Octavia’s seat beside her. “Anything with vodka is usually my go to drink.” She holds up her glass, which is mostly empty but Clarke assumes holds her anything with vodka.

“Vodka is important.” Clarke grins.

“I study at MIT. I drink it more than I care to admit.” Raven says solemnly. “What about you, ‘Tavia says you’re going studying medicine?” Clarke silently curses Octavia, she is not prepared for people who think they know things about her. In theory, Clarke has several medical degrees. She just can’t use them, because she’s technically too young to have obtained a medical degree in the twentieth century.

“Yeah, I’m pre-med.” Clarke tells Raven.

Once Clarke is three drinks in, she realises that Octavia is probably right. They’ve shut themselves off from the world for too long. Just because they don’t age and don’t die, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t go out and have fun. _But,_ a small voice reminds her _, the people you’re talking to do age. And it’s not going to stop because you want to be friends with them._ Clarke sighs, shutting that voice up with another drink.

“I think you’d like Blake.” Raven decides, throwing her last dart at the board with scary accuracy considering how much she has drunk. Raven had mentioned her infamous second roommate a few times in the conversation so far, mostly just to bitch about him bailing on them _‘for no good reason other than he reckons he is sick.’_

“If he’s as fun as you, I probably will.” Clarke says, collecting the darts and taking her turn. Considering she is basically a super hero, she misses all three of her shots by a lot.

“He’s not.” Raven says, laughing at Clarke’s turn, “He’s kind of an arsehole, but like, the kind you can’t help but like? Like Murphy?” Clarke raises an eyebrow. Murphy had been nothing but sarcastic and sullen. Clarke didn’t dislike him, but she was pretty sure she didn’t like him.

“Blake is nothing like Murphy.” Monroe says, moving to stand beside Raven. “He is an arsehole because he doesn’t want anyone to know he is a big softie on the inside.”

“Why are all your friends arseholes?” Clarke asks, watching Raven take her turn and nailing each one of her shots. This girl seems to be good at everything.

“They all pretend to be arseholes.” Monroe corrects her. “Except Murphy. He is an arsehole.”

“Now that’s just not true, Monroe.” Murphy drawls from behind them.

“Don’t lie, Murphy.” Raven says, “We have a new friend and we don’t want her to think you’re something you’re not.”

 

**Bellamy Blake**

Bellamy isn’t going to lie. He’s sitting on his couch sulking. He’s not sick or anything, he just feels genuinely shit. He can’t explain it, but he has a dull pain in his left side and he’s feeling miserable. It’s not like he’s really got anything to be sad about. His life is good now, he’s got _fucking_ super powers. He does feel bad for missing Harper’s birthday, but he wouldn’t really be good company right now. And he’s not really in the mood for drinking anyway.

He’s flicking between channels, trying to find something to watch when he gets yet another message from Raven. Somehow she always guesses his password and changes her contact name. He’s stopped trying to keep it the sensible ‘Raven Reyes’ and started insulting her instead.

 **Raven is the most annoying person I know  
** _Bellamy ‘I don’t have a middle name *cough* it’s Douglas *cough*’ Blake. There is a girl here and I am pretty sure she is your type._

He ignores her. Mostly because he knows she is drunk and partly because she is probably right. Bellamy and Raven had slept together when they had first met. Raven’s boyfriend was cheating on her and Bellamy was mad at everything and everyone, so they had very angry sex. Less than fifteen minutes later they had decided they were only friends. Ever since then, Raven was eerily good at finding and setting him up with girls that were his type. The last one, Gina, had been great. They dated for six months and Bellamy was talking about her moving in. But then her mum got sick and she had to move home. Bellamy doesn't have much where he is, but he has his friends and he has his school. He wasn't prepared to give it up. 

Normally he would be down at the bar the second he got the message from Raven, but tonight he can't bring himself to do it. He isn't really looking for one night stands anymore and if he goes after this girl, looking for something serious, he will have to eventually explain about his powers and he honestly has no idea how to do that.

He groans when he receives a photo from Raven. She’s standing with a beautiful blonde girl. Her eyes are bright blue and a little, glassy, indicating Raven has probably gotten her just as drunk as Raven was planning to get. She’s got a little mole just above her lip and Bellamy is struck by a weird desire to kiss it. Raven was getting a little too good at picking the girls he was into.

 **Bellamy  
** _Fuck off, Raven_

He doesn’t get any more messages, until a little after 2am.

 **Raven is the most annoying person I know  
** _Can you please pick Miller and I up? Taxi's are expensive and your Facebook says you’re active so please don't try to pretend you’re asleep. Raven is dictating this message too me because she is too drunk too type._

 **Bellamy  
** _I’ll be there in ten. To whoever is messaging me, make sure they don’t die from alcohol poisoning before I get there to rub it in their faces._

Bellamy hauls himself off the couch, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and lets himself out of their apartment. Bellamy had waited up for them, because he was expecting them to need a ride home. And he owed Raven one.

**Clarke Griffin**

“Ask him to pick me and Miller up. And tell him he has to because I don’t want to be murdered by a taxi driver. And then tell him that I know he’s awake because I just checked on Facebook and it said he was currently active.” Raven tells Lincoln, who is typing a long message to the contact ‘ _BLAKE IS AN ARSEHOLE’_ with several bell emojis. Clarke has her arm around Raven who was still shouting instructions at Lincoln and is watching as Monroe herds Fox and Harper into a taxi.

“You got her?” Monroe calls, climbing in beside Harper.

“I’ve got her.” Clarke confirms, waving them off.

“He’s on his way. He asked me to ask you not to die because he wants to rub it in your face first.” Lincoln tells Raven, handing her phone back and wrapping an arm around Octavia’s waist.

“You guys can head off, if you want.” Miller says, when he comes out of the bar a couple of minutes later. “Blake will be here soon and it’s too cold for us to all stand out here.”

“Thanks Miller.” Clarke says. She feels okay leaving Raven with Miller. He’s had substantially less to drink than her and he’s getting in the same car. “It was nice to meet you all.”

“You too, guys.” Miller says as Raven wraps her arms around both Clarke and Octavia.

“Don’t be a stranger, Clarkey. I’ll see you soon, ‘Tavia.” Raven says, “Thanks for being my sober texting buddy!” She adds to Lincoln.

Clarke falls into step beside Lincoln and Octavia and hears a car pull up behind them. She turns around to see Raven being practically shoved into the back seat by Miller, before he climbs into the front. She can’t see them through the tinted windows but waves goodbye as they drive past.

“I like them.” She tells Octavia, stumbling slightly as she turns back around.

“They’re good kids.” Octavia agrees.

"You're literally older than all of them.” Lincoln says.

“No way. I’m only eighteen. Harper just turned twenty one.”

*

Clarke wakes up very hungover the next morning. It’s been quite a while since she drunk that much and it’s been ever longer since she doesn’t regret it. She had a good night. And she likes the group of friends she spent it with.

After laying in bed in what is a combination of self pity and what feels suspiciously like happiness she decides the only way she is going to function this morning is with coffee. She stumbles out of bed and finds herself in the kitchen way too fast. No. _Oh no._ There is no way she can move that quickly. Not unless –

“Guys!” Clarke calls, panic surging inside her. The only way she could have her powers back is if Bellamy is close. And they had spent so long staying away from him.

“Too early, Clarke.” Octavia mutters, stepping out of her room and heading straight for the coffee machine that they had spent way too much money on.

“Bellamy is in the city.” Clarke says, running her hands through her hair and sinking to the floor. Her legs can’t hold her up anymore, hungover or not. This is not good.

“How do you know?” Lincoln asks, joining them in the kitchen and standing beside Octavia who appears to have frozen.

Clarke waves her hand of the coffee machine splutters to life. Lincoln places a mug underneath and turns to her, eyes wide.

“Oh shit.”

“We have to leave.”

“We can’t. If I have mine back, he’s got his.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, just a reminder, that I know NOTHING about American schooling, so if I have something drastically wrong, please let me know in the comments!
> 
> I'm considering doing a series of one-shots and/or drabbles, so if you have any prompts, hit me up on Tumblr! [Writing Is Ruining My Life](http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/) or [ Not a Total Basket Case](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and kudos are basically the best thing that can happen to me!


	3. Dreams

**Clarke Griffin**

_“Bellamy!” Clarke screams, dropping her gun and stepping towards him. He falls backwards into her and her hands find the wound on his left side. There’s too much blood. She drops them both to the ground, her hand putting as much pressure as she can onto his wound, trying to stop the bleeding._

_“Clarke,” he mumbles, reaching a hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes, “Find me soon, okay?”_

_“Don’t do this, Bell. Don’t you fucking die again.” She begs, tears falling from her eyes and landing on his face._

_“Promise me, promise you’ll find me soon.” He whispers._

_“No, no, come on, Bell.” She sobs. She knows he’s going to die. It’s too cold and the blood is seeping through her hands. There’s too much. She can’t stop it._

_“Promise, Clarke?” He says, stumbling on the words. He doesn’t have many left._

_“I love you.” She says, because she can’t promise. She can’t go through this again. None of them can._

_“Love you too.” He murmurs. And then he’s gone._

Clarke wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding. She hasn’t dreamed of Bellamy’s death in a long time, but it still hurts the same way it did ninety-seven years ago. Knowing he's close hasn't helped that. And she knows what this one means. Bellamy would have had the same one.

She sighs, pushing the dream of Bellamy out of her thoughts. Now is not the time for that. She has class in an hour and at least three cups of coffee to drink before she gets there. She didn’t sleep well. She stumbles to the bathroom and flicks the lock with a movement of her wrist and then sighs. Having her powers back feels so natural, she’s going to have to really concentrate on not using them. She makes a show of using her hand to physically unlock and then re-lock the bathroom door.

By the time she is showered and making her second coffee she feels relatively human (well, as human as she can be – all things considered) and is packing her bag for the day when Octavia corners her.

“Good morning. What are we going to do about Bellamy?” She asks. She’s just come inside from a run and is far too chipper for the early hour of the morning.

“I don’t know.” Clarke groans, shoving her laptop a little too aggressively into her backpack. It’s been three days since she realised Bellamy was close and they hadn’t talked about it. Clarke has managed to get out of the apartment before Lincoln or Octavia can corner her.

“Well, we need to decide soon.” Octavia says, pausing before adding, “He isn’t going to remember us properly if we disappear now, it’ll just be the weird dreams or something, but he’s still going to have the powers and he’ll probably draw attention to himself.” Every single time they find Bellamy it’s the same. First they both get their powers back, him first – her once she gets close enough to him. Then they start having dreams of their past together, the same dreams from their own perspective. Next, depending on their physically proximity, he starts remembering while he’s awake. Finally, it all comes back to him. Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes it takes a couple of weeks. But it always happens.

“I just want to do what’s best for him. I just want him to stay alive.” Clarke says quietly, letting Octavia wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Me too.” Octavia whispers. “But we weren’t even looking for him this time, that’s a weird coincidence. Don’t you think that maybe it’s time we bought him back?”

“I don’t know. It’s been nearly a hundred years O. How do we explain that?” She leans her head on Octavia’s shoulders and sighs. “He’s going to be so mad.”

“We tell him the truth. He _loves_ you. He’s your soulmate, Clarke. He’s going to forgive you eventually.”

Octavia’s words stay in her head throughout the rest of the day. She doesn’t really pay attention in her human anatomy unit (she’s learned it al before, this is a refresher), she doesn’t remember what she ordered for lunch as she waits for it to be prepared and she literally walks straight into Raven Reyes. This is _really_ not Clarke’s day.

“Clarke?” Raven asks, bending down to help Clarke collect the armful of papers she’s dropped on the floor. “Hey. How are you?”

“Hey.” Clarke mumbles, trying to orientate her thoughts. “Good, just got a lot on my mind today. I thought you said you were at MIT?”

“Jasper and I are meeting Fox because Jasper is into her best friend.” Raven shrugs. “Walk with me? I have an hour to kill before Jasper shows up and Fox finishes her class.”

Clarke falls into step beside Raven, deciding the best way to keep her mind free of Bellamy related thoughts is to spend the day with someone who has no idea he exists. Who has no idea Clarke is fighting with herself about her soulmate. Plus, she likes Raven and Fox. It’ll be good to hang out with people who’s biggest concerns are their grades. She can pretend she’s one of them for the afternoon.

They sit in a café on campus and wait for the others. Raven manages to convince the barista to make them a free coffee and is telling Clarke a story about her roommates when Jasper, Fox and her friend arrive. Jasper has a goofy smile on his face and they’re walking a few steps behind Fox. From the triumphant look she exchanges with Raven, it seems to be going well.

“Hey guys. Maya, this is Clarke and Raven. Clarke is pre-med and Raven is studying something I don’t understand at MIT with Jasper. This is Maya, guys. She’s a psychology major, so be careful of what you say around her.” Fox laughs, swinging an extra chair over and sitting next to Clarke.

The afternoon passes pleasantly and Clarke manages to not think about Bellamy again. She gets lost in the trivial and safe conversation between the people she is beginning to think of as her friends.

 

**Bellamy Blake**

_He’s lying on the cold ground, looking up at the girl Raven had messaged him about the night before. She looks terrified, he can see the tears on her face as she presses her hand into his side. Oh, there’s a wound there. He hates dreams where he nearly dies._

_“Clarke.” He finds himself saying. “Find me soon, okay?” Conscious or not, that’s a weird thing to say. He feels a surge of fondness for the blonde girl – Clarke, he called her – hovering over him. He’d even call it love._

_“Don’t do this, Bell. Don’t you fucking die again.” She tells him aggressively, her tears falling into his face. He feels like he should tease for how mad she is at a dying person, but his lips don’t form the words._

_“Promise you’ll find me soon.” He says instead._

_“No, no, come on, Bell.” She’s sobbing now, it’s hard to understand her words. For a moment he lets himself wonder why he’s dreaming about this girl he’s never met being so upset about him dying. There has to be a deeper meaning to that. Something he is_ not _going to look into._

_“Promise Clarke?” He also gives himself a second to wonder why he thinks she can find him even though he’s clearly dying._

_“I love you.” She tells him and he feels a weird feeling of hurt that she won’t promise him._

_“Love you too.” He manages._

Bellamy wakes up and takes a huge gulp of air, sitting upright in his bed. His hand fumbles to his side, where his dream wound had been. It’s clear – obviously. He sits quietly for a moment, waiting for the dream to fade like they normally do after he wakes up. Instead it remains just as vivid in his thoughts.

“What the fuck?” He mutters, scowling at nothing and throwing himself out of bed. He has too much to do today to have a weird dream lingering in his head. He’s got class at twelve and then he has to work on one of his papers. He has work at six at the bar and he really wants to fit a run in somewhere.

*

He’s sitting in the library with Murphy and Miller bitching about the particularly gruelling paper he’s working on for his modern history class when a girl approaches them. He’s sure he’s never seen before but is positive he knows from somewhere. She’s got strikingly green eyes and dark hair, which is pulled into intricate braids on the side of her head.

“Hey Octavia.” Miller smiles, shoving aside his books so she has room to join them. Octavia sits and drops her own bag on the table. She’s looking at him with a look Bellamy can only describe as wistful.

“Hey guys. Do you mind if I join you?” She asks, at the same time she pulls her laptop out of her bag and crosses her legs on the seat.

“Looks like we don’t really get a choice.” Murphy deadpans, rolling his eyes. Octavia gives him a bright smile but otherwise ignores him. It’s a real talent, not letting Murphy get under your skin. Bellamy is always impressed when someone manages it.

“This is Bellamy.” Miller says, jerking his thumb in Bellamy’s direction. “He’s a grumpy arsehole like Murphy and I don’t know why I spend my time with them.”

“I’m Octavia.” She tells him. “My dumb brother thought that was a good name, many a year ago.”

“You brother has good taste.” Bellamy feels the need to defend the choice. It feels like something he would have picked, given the choice.

“You _would_ think that.” Miller says, rolling his eyes at Octavia and then turning his attention back to his book. He doesn’t get much study done because he spends too much time looking at Octavia, trying to work out how he knows her or if she just has one of those faces. Eventually he decides it must be from his time in the foster system. He’s tempted to ask her, but that would be rude and he’d be pissed if someone came out and asked him the same question.

“I’m going to head out. See you guys, O.” Bellamy declares, just before his shift at Grounders starts. He’s most of the way off campus before he wonders where the nickname for Octavia had come from.

“Blake!” Raven calls, shaking him out of his musings and jogging to catch up to him.

“You on tonight?” He asks, when she falls into step beside him. The manager of Grounders, a terrifying woman named Anya, tries to put them on together as often as possible. The two of them made a good team.

“Yeah. But I don’t start until seven.” Raven says, she has a smirk on her face and a gleam in her eye that tells him she’s up to something. Something like messing with his life.

“What have you done, Raven?” Bellamy asks, looking at her sideways as he lets himself into the bar. It’s mostly empty, so Raven sits near the till while Bellamy signs his timesheet and drops his wallet and phone into the bottom draw.

“I hung out with Clarke again today.” Raven tells him and he stiffens at the name. He had been sure he made it up for his dream the night before. Raven has definitely not mentioned that name before.

“Clarke?” He asks carefully, not looking at Raven. _That is too much of a coincidence._

“Oh yeah, the girl we met at Harper’s.” Raven says, “Anyway, I want to set you up. She’s a nerd like you and she loves arguing for the sake of it. Even Fox thinks it’s a good mix. And Fox and I are on a matchmaking roll.”

“You’re too invested in my love life.” Bellamy mutters. He’s very pointedly ignoring the weird feeling he has that Raven is right. He’s also ignoring the fact that he somehow managed to guess her name correctly. What are the chances of that?

**Clarke Griffin**

_“Bell.” Clarke groans, crawling towards him. The rain has soaked through her clothes already and her leg is definitely broken. They heal fast, it’ll be fine in a couple of days. Bellamy isn’t so lucky. There is piece of the upturned carriage protruding from his chest. He’s not going to heal. He’s dying._

_“Clarke. I’m sorry.” He gurgles, blood dripping from his mouth. He reaches for her hand, grasping it loosely as his life slips away. Her tears start falling, but she barely notices. She’s about to lose him again._

_“S’not your fault, Bellamy.” She whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. She can hear the sound of hooves and wheels down the road, but by the time they reach them, it will be too late. Bellamy will be gone. “I’ll find you soon.”_

_“I love you.” He says, through his coughs._

_“I love you too.” She murmurs. He doesn’t hear though, he’s already gone._

Clarke wakes up with a start and groans. It’s the fourth morning in a row she’s woken up to a dream of Bellamy’s death.

 

**Bellamy Blake**

_Bellamy is walking along a cobblestone, hand in hand with Clarke. This time it has to be the eighteenth century, judging by what they’re wearing._

_“We’ve been together thirty years this time. It’s the longest in ten lifetimes.” Clarke smiles up at him, though she can’t be anymore than twenty-five herself. His dreams are just making less and less sense._

_“Some of my favourite years.” Bellamy tells her, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Her arms are wrapping around his neck when they’re roughly pulled apart._

_“Bellamy Bateman!” The watchman (who Bellamy somehow knows is notorious for unfair arrests) shouts. He’s standing in front of Bellamy, who is being restrained by two others. He’s struggling because they’re holding Clarke and she hasn’t done anything wrong. He needs to get to her. He can't let her get caught.“You have been found guilty of theft and have been sentenced to death by hanging.”_

_He’s executed the next morning but he’s more distressed he can’t find Clarke in the crowds._

Bellamy wakes with his hands flying to his neck. It’s the fifth morning in a row he’s woken to a weirdly, vivid dream about his own death but been more concerned about the girl he’s never met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this should have a warning on it, but heads up - this is kind of a reincarnation fic, so we're dying left, right and centre over here! 
> 
> I actually want Jasper to be happy in this fic. Sue me. #Jasper Jordan deserved better
> 
> Also, I’ve been re-watching and I’m up to season 2. I like Fox. I need to know more about her. I need to know the real story behind her name. Faye Oliana Xavier just can’t be it. 
> 
> For like five seconds, I considered killing Bellamy (I hate killing Bellamy) by dropping a coconut on his head. I also considered a lion attack. Please, _please _, give me ideas!__
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _My history knowledge sucks, if anything is offensively inaccurate, let me know. Bellamy would be so disappointed in me._  
>  _


	4. It'll hurt like hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy tries to be a hero and Clarke tries to get him to remember her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME SO LONG TO UPDATE THIS. I AM SO UNRELIABLE AND ONE DAY I WILL BE BETTER. BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY AND TOMORROW ISN'T LOOKING GOOD EITHER. THANKS FOR STICKING WITH THIS IF YOU'RE STILL STICKING WITH IT.

**Bellamy Blake**

Bellamy finally accepts that the weird dreams that he is having are related to his powers when he wakes up one morning after being struck with a bolt of lighting that came from someone he doesn’t recognise’ palm. In the dream he and Clarke are fighting another couple. They all had the same speed and strength that Bellamy is now used too, but the other two were flinging lightning at him. It’s disconcerting to say the least, as well as wickedly unfair. As far as superpowers go, super speed isn’t his favourite. Couldn’t he have woken up with the ability to shoot lightning from his hands?

He’s dealing with the dreams and mostly coping with it, until they start happening during the day. The first time it happened, he was studying on the couch and shouting at Raven.

“Could you actually not pull apart our TV?” He yells, loud enough she can hear it over their ‘roommate agreed’ Spotify playlist. He doesn’t hear her response though, because he’s focussed on what he can only describe as a memory. He’s dancing with Clarke in the living room of a house he doesn’t recognise, but must be from the early twentieth century. Her head is on his chest and she’s looking at him with utter adoration. It’s obviously never happened before, but it feels real. It doesn’t feel like something he’s imagining.

“Blake, are you even listening to me?” Raven snaps, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Not really.” He mutters, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Just is it necessary to pull apart all our appliances?”

“Yes.” Raven grins. “Pass me the screwdriver.” He glares at her, but kicks the tool in her general direction.

*

The memories-that-can’t-possibly-be-memories start happening frequently after that. He’s serving a customer at work when he remembers Clarke trying to get into a bar fight with a man three times her size - and winning. He’s paying for groceries when he remembers picking berries with Clarke and throwing them at each other. He’s on the bus to work when he remembers a train trip through mountains.

He starts freaking out when one of his ‘memories’ involves Octavia, who he has met once, as his sister. His brain has taken this too far. Even if these weird memories have something to do with his new powers, that’s creepy. He’s basically accepted that Clarke is involved in this somehow. But Octavia? No. Too weird.

He thinks about asking Clarke about it, but he’s never even met her. If a stranger approached him on the street and explained what he was going through to him, he’d probably run away screaming insanity. He’ll find a way to deal with this on his own eventually, but it’s not going to be by telling Clarke about his weird dreams and memories.

Instead he finds himself doing everything he can to avoid Clarke. When Raven says they’re going out for drinks, Bellamy says he has to work on a paper. When Miller asks him if he wants to meet at the library with Octavia and her friend, he says he has work. It’s probably not the most mature way of dealing with _whatever the hell_ is going on. But he can’t really think of any other options. Frankly, he’s losing his mind. He’s sure of it.

He’s sitting on the same roof as he was when he’d stopped that girl – Charlotte – from being mugged all those weeks ago and thinking when _it_ happens. The same guy, he’s sure of it, is pointing that knife at _another_ kid. He’s already in a bad mood, so picking a fight with this guy seems like a good idea. He makes sure there is no one else around and then drops from the top of the building, once again putting himself between the kid and the mugger.

“Haven’t we been here before?” Bellamy drawls, glancing at the kid behind him to make sure he’s unharmed. He’s probably only sixteen and looking at Bellamy with terrified eyes. He tries to shoot him a reassuring smile but the kid takes off. Bellamy sighs internally but turns his attention back to the guy with a knife. He’s not sure being stabbed will actually kill him, but even if it doesn’t, it will probably hurt like hell.

“What the hell are you?” He asks, brandishing his knife at Bellamy. It’s really feeling like déjà vu and he honestly has enough of that in his life.

“Does it matter? Get the fuck out of here. If I ever catch you again, it won’t be so easy.” Bellamy says in his most menacing voice. He takes a step towards the guy and then shoves him for good measure. It’s not hard, but it sends him stumbling back and then running around the corner. It’s definitely what he needed. Saving that kid is a good feeling.

“You should really be more careful about who sees you do shit like that.” A new voice calls. Bellamy spins around, trying to hide his shock at the sight of another man lounging against the wall. Someone Bellamy hadn’t heard approaching. He’s bigger than Bellamy, not that that matters, since Bellamy has super strength, but he doesn’t look scared. Which is disconcerting.

“What’s it to you?” Bellamy asks casually. He knows in theory that he shouldn’t be seen. But he’s not just going to let kids get robbed.

“Think about it this way. It’s not just you that you’re risking exposing.” The guy shrugs. He waves his palm in Bellamy’s direction and small, sharp pieces of ice hit the ground in front of him. What was Bellamy saying about being ripped off in the power department?

“Who are you?” Bellamy asks, stepping forward. This guy must have the answers to at least some of the questions Bellamy has.

“Does it matter?” He says and it almost sounds like he’s mimicking Bellamy’s words from earlier. “Just consider this a warning.” And then he’s gone. In theory, Bellamy knows that he must have taken off down the alley, but he’s never seen anyone move as fast as he can. And honestly, it’s a little unnerving.

As he’s walking home, he remembers a time when he and Clarke discussed the pros and cons of telling people what they could do. She wanted to keep it a secret and he wanted to help people. The memory ends with her shouting about him dying when people know too much.

 

**Clarke Griffin**

“So you’ve seen Bellamy again?” Clarke asks for what is probably the sixth time.

“Yes, I’ve told you this.” Octavia sighs and Clarke doesn’t blame her. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. “He called me ‘O’ again, but that’s the only indication that he’s got any memories back.”

“And he didn’t try to talk to you about anything else?” Clarke asks, because she doesn’t know how to say what she really wants to. _‘He didn’t ask about me?’_

“No. He just looks at me like he doesn’t know who I am.” Octavia shrugs. “You’re the one who brings the memories back. Not me.”

“I know.” Clarke mutters. She’s just mad because normally Bellamy would have come to her by now. It’s been a month since she got her powers back. As far as she can tell, besides the dreams, Bellamy has no memories of her at all.

“If you want him back, you have to talk to him.” Octavia sighs, hauling herself of the couch and wondering into the kitchen. “I know it’s hard. He’s going to be mad. We know that. But he’ll forgive you. He always does.”

“Easy for you to say.” Clarke groans. “You’ve wanted to look for him for nearly a hundred years. He’s not going to hate you.”

“He’s your _soulmate._ He’s not going to hate you either.” Octavia shouts. “I’m making tacos for dinner.”

“Make extra guacamole. I want to drown my sorrows in avocado.”

“I’m going to the bar tonight.” Octavia calls, ignoring Clarke’s request. “Raven said she and both her roommates are coming tonight and maybe Bellamy will be working?”

“I’m only coming if you make me extra guacamole.” Clarke sulks. She doesn’t particularly want to go out. But Octavia is right. If Bellamy hasn’t come to her yet, it’s probably time to go to him. They’ve found each other now. They might as well be together. Because _goddamn,_ she misses him so much.

“Consider it done.”

*

“Clarke!” Raven calls, getting off the stool she’s sitting on and pulling Clarke into a hug. “You made it!”

“This one wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Clarke says, jabbing her thumb in Octavia’s direction.

“That’s our ‘Tavia.” Raven agrees, ordering both Clarke and Octavia a drink from the bartender who’s definitely not Bellamy.

“Something with vodka?” Clarke asks, taking the drink from the bartender.

“Obviously.” Raven says. “Oh by the way, Miller and Bellamy are playing darts. You have to meet Bell, because it’s probably the last time I’ll be able to convince him to come out in a while.”

“Bellamy?” Clarke chokes out. She glances at Octavia, who’s looking just as shocked. So at least this isn’t a set up. Though she wouldn’t put that past Octavia.

“Bellamy Blake?” Raven asks, “My other roommate?” Clarke only just manages to stifle a groan. Her life is honestly just too coincidental at the moment. She’d come out looking for Bellamy, only to find him already part of her new friendship group.

“The other _mysterious_ roommate. Let’s go say hi, Clarke.” Octavia grins, giving Clarke a very pointed look when Raven looks away. Clarke can’t hide from this. She’s about to be introduced to the man she’s been in love for not quite three thousand years. The man who is her soulmate. The man she let die almost a hundred years ago. The man she didn’t look for. The man she misses more than anything in the world.

“Blake. Miller.” Raven calls, snapping her fingers to get their attention. “Clarke and ‘Tavia are joining us for drinks. Miller and Bellamy turn around and smile at them, Miller nodding his head in greeting.

“Hey, good to see you again, Octavia. Nice to meet you, Clarke.” Bellamy says, offering his hand for her to shake. It takes everything in her to place her palm in his and shake his hand like a normal person. There isn't even a flicker of recognition. How is it possible that he doesn’t remember her at all?

Throughout the night, Clarke drops hints that she knows Bellamy. That she knows who he is. That she knows about his powers. But he doesn’t take the bait on any of them. Or he just doesn’t remember.

“Do you know what my biggest fear is?” Clarke asks, when she’s sure Bellamy is paying attention.

“What?” Raven asks, curious at Clarke’s random subject change.

“I’m terrified of being burnt at the stake. It’s so stupid, but I watched a movie about Salem when I was a kid and it’s just stuck with me.” _Truthfully,_ Clarke had dreamed about the time Bellamy was accused of witchcraft and executed for it last night. It was so rare for men to accused during the Witch Hunts and of course it happened to Bellamy.

“It would be a pretty horrible death.” Bellamy agrees, not giving her any sign that he remembers going through that very death.

By the end of the night, even Octavia has tried to help Clarke with getting Bellamy to remember. But he doesn’t. He drives Miller and Raven (who are oblivious to the tension) home and Clarke and Octavia make their way to their favourite rooftop. The perks of having superpowers include being able to get to the top of buildings to look over the city.

“I don’t know why, but he doesn’t have his memories.” Octavia finally mutters, after they’ve sat in silence for almost ten minutes. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe I waited too long.” Clarke whispers. “I should have started looking for him years ago.” Because why else would he not know them? What other reason is there for Bellamy not remembering Clarke? For him not remembering his sister?

“No, that’s not how this works.” Octavia says firmly. “This isn’t your fault. As long as one of you have the memories, they come back. Maybe it just takes longer, the longer you’ve been apart?”

“Maybe I should just drop of this building and be done with it?” Clarke mutters sarcastically. The fall wouldn’t even kill her. It might hurt, she hasn’t jumped from this high in a while, but she’d be fine. She’s just drunk and tired and sad.

“Clarke, if you die now, it’s over. You don’t come back. You won’t find each other. Neither of you will remember anything. Stop be so fucking dramatic.” Octavia snaps. The statement made her mad and honestly Clarke doesn’t blame her. Two super humans dying at the same time is a tragedy that they have all experienced. It’s not something to joke about.

“He doesn’t remember me though.” Clarke says sadly.

“He will.” Octavia promises, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Facts for this chapter:  
> I’m craving guacamole and I’m having real issues spelling avocado right now.  
> I’ve made this all up entirely on the spot instead of doing anything productive.  
> In my planning section for this story, I have a dot point that says, ‘Is Bellamy cursed or just fucking stupid?’ and I still can’t answer it.
> 
> Also I edited this while chopping onions. It wasn't a fun time. 
> 
> Comments and kudos motivate and save me. <3
> 
> Come be my friend on tumblr, [here](http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/) or [here](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/)


	5. Don't you think it's worth it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy battles with his memories and Clarke battles with getting him to remember her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still forever sorry about the ridiculous wait on this chapter. Especially since I've been updating everything else.  
> I'm on a roll with this now, but I'm not going to promise an update time - because I am terrible at keeping promises. 
> 
> ALSO SORRY NOT SORRY FOR CLIFFHANGERS! HOPEFULLY THAT'LL HELP MOTIVATE ME.
> 
> Unedited - my standard. But I was also mildly inebriated when I wrote this.

**Bellamy Blake**

“Blake. Miller.” Bellamy turns around at the sound of his name and has to force himself not to react. Standing in between Raven and Octavia and looking embarrassed is none other than Clarke herself. And every part of her looks exactly like his creepy dreams and memories. She’s the same height and her hair is the exact same shade of blonde and there is no way he could dream up eyes that bright.

Resisting the urge to shake himself, he focuses on pretending like he doesn’t recognise her. “Hey, good to see you again, Octavia. Nice to meet you, Clarke.”

“You too.” She smiles and he’s sure he doesn’t imagine the flicker of disappointment and hurt that crosses her face. _What is going on?_ Does she have the same memories as him?

“We’re going to grab a table. Do you guys want to join us?” Raven asks, clearly oblivious to the tension. Good.

“Yeah, let us finish this game.” Miller says, which Bellamy is grateful for. It’s probably best that he has some time to compose himself before he has to have an actual conversation with Clarke. If she isn’t going to say anything, neither is he. He’s going to act like a normal person, who isn’t sitting in silence and freaking the fuck out. He can do this. Probably.

“What’s on your mind, man?” Miller asks, when he points out how much he’s won by. Since Bellamy developed superpowers Miller hasn’t won a game of darts, but tonight, annihilates Bellamy.

“Just distracted, I guess.” Bellamy shrugs, following Miller to the bar. In reality, he can’t shake the feeling that Clarke knows who he is. That she probably knows the answers to what he is, to why he has powers. He’s about to order another drink, when he has another memory-that-can’t-possibly-be-a-memory and stops short.

_“Bellamy?” Clarke asks him. It’s probably sometime in the early twentieth century. Not knowing what to say to her, he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug._

_“You remember?” She asks, burying her face in the crook of his neck._

_“Everything. I’m so sorry, Clarke.” He whispers, pressing his lips to her temple. “I won’t let it happen again. I’m not going to leave you.”_

“Dude, what are you drinking?” Miller snaps, clicking his fingers in Bellamy’s face.

“I – ugh. Just a cider. Thanks.” Bellamy mutters, not making eye contact with Miller. He’s being weird and he knows it. And for the first time, he’s considering that maybe he and Clarke are stuck in some kind of reincarnation time loop. Which is hopefully not as crazy as it sounds. At least he’d have an answer to what is happening to him

He slides in next to Raven, so he doesn’t have to sit next to Clarke and takes a long sip of his drink before turning into the conversation. Raven is talking about Jasper and Maya who are ‘basically perfect for each other.’

“So in conclusion, I’m a matchmaking genius and I’m just working out who to set up next.” Raven says, clasping her hands together and looking around the table.

“Yeah, probably quit while you’re ahead.” Miller says, with a roll of his eyes. “Chances of you being successful twice are slim.”

“I’ve already got my next plan in action.” Raven grins, looking sideways at Clarke. Bellamy rolls her eyes, feeling unreasonably jealous towards whoever Raven plans on setting Clarke up with.

“You’re the worst, Raven.” Miller says. “Why are you guys even friends with her?”

“I mean, she does pay a third of our rent.” Bellamy teases, avoiding looking at Clarke and nudging Raven’s shoulder.

The night goes on with Bellamy mostly sure he’s only being a little weird. Clarke makes references to his memories-that-can’t-possibly-be-memories throughout the night. She talks about her friend that she used to sit on top of rooftops with and Bellamy suddenly has several memories of sitting on the top of buildings with Clarke. She makes references to weird deaths he’s dreamed about. References to the lives they’ve apparently spent together. He’s coping with it, by mostly avoiding eye contact with Clarke, when Octavia mentions something about a brother who was always too overprotective but she still misses him.

_“Octavia, no. You can’t go!” Bellamy shouts at his little sister. He knows it’s a memory but he doesn’t recognise the time. It must be at least hundreds of years ago._

_“You can’t control what I do, Bellamy. We’ll all be safer if we separate.” Octavia says, way calmer than Bellamy feels. “It’s not like it’s forever. We will meet again.”_

_“I don’t want to lose you.” Bellamy says, dangerously close to letting his emotions take over. “What if something happens and I’m not there to protect you?”_

“Are you okay?” Octavia asks, looking at Bellamy with what he assumes is curiosity.

“He gets weird when we talk about family.” Miller shrugs.

“Shut up.” Bellamy mutters, shaking his head to clear the memories. He needs to get home and clear his head. 

“We’re going to head home.” Clarke says and it seems she’s talking directly to Bellamy but then turns to Raven. “Call me if you remember anything, okay?”

“What?” Both Bellamy and Raven ask at the same time.

“About that movie you wanted me to watch?” Clarke says with a smile, that doesn't seem to reach her eyes. She slides out of the booth and offers Octavia her hand, dragging her to her feet. “I’ll see you guys during the week?”

“I’ll be on campus next week, so I’ll come find you.” Raven says, getting up to hug the two girls.

*

“So what did you think of Clarke?” Raven asks, leaning forward from her place in the backseat to talk to Bellamy.

Bellamy doesn’t say anything for a moment, because honestly? He hasn’t stopped thinking about Clarke since Raven first sent him her picture all those weeks ago. He likes Clarke broadly, but aside from his weird memories, he doesn’t know anything about her. So he settles with, “Yeah, she seemed great.”

“She is.” Raven agrees. “Super nerdy. Exactly your type.” ‘ _Also, I think my past self was in love with her,’_ doesn’t seem like an appropriate response so he shrugs and puts his feet on the dash.

“Maybe he’s into superheroes?” Miller suggests.

“Or just weird history nerds with super powers?” Raven adds.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bellamy rolls his eyes, because if his memories and dreams are anything to go by, Clarke is definitely into history nerds with super powers.

“I think he’s into her.” Miller says, leaning over to swat at his ankles. “He’s not denied it.”

“You know nothing.” Bellamy says, managing to sound as though he’s teasing and not thinking about the fact he literally doesn’t know anything about what’s happening either.

“Alright, Jon Snow.” Raven says, leaning forward and shoving his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Raven.” Miller groans, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror. “Jon Snow doesn’t even say that.”

“Whatever. I hate that show.”

 

**Clarke Griffin**

“What do you mean, he doesn’t remember?” Lincoln asks. It’s after four in the morning, but Lincoln has been working a shift at a local diner just for something to do. They’re all up, sprawled around the lounge room talking about how it’s possible that Bellamy doesn’t have any of his memories.

“He doesn’t even react when bring up the most obvious things. Like the powers. He has to have his powers if Clarke does. He just can’t… not?” Octavia says. They’ve spent fifteen minutes filling Lincoln in on the night and he’s been listening thoughtfully.

“What if he’s faking it?” Lincoln asks after a moment of silence.

“Faking it?” Clarke deadpans, raising her eyebrows.

“What if he remembers and thinks he’s losing his mind of something?” Lincoln suggests. “It’s been a hundred years. Things have changed since he last had to remember. Maybe he thinks he’s read one too many comic books?” Clarke would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about that. But it seemed too much like wishful thinking. Bellamy remembering and just pretending he doesn’t. Not likely.

“What does he gain from doing that though?” Clarke asks sadly.

“He doesn’t gain anything, but I can only imagine how confusing getting your memories back is.” Lincoln says. Lincoln has never died, so he’s never had to go through this. He understands what she’s going through though, because reckless and abrasive Octavia had been far less careful. As she’d gotten older, she’d matured - learning to be careful and taking less risks. She didn’t die nearly as often as Bellamy. And hasn't at all for three hundred years.

Clarke has only had to go through it a handful of times herself, but she remembers clearly how bad getting her memories back was. The confusion of dreaming about her own death. Not understanding the random memories that were slotting into place. Seeing someone and being so instantly in love with them, with no knowledge of who they are? Gaining superpowers she had no idea how to use? It was basically impossible to wrap her head around. And that was hundreds of years ago, before popular culture had any impact on what she was thinking. Lincoln could be right. It’s been nearly a hundred years, so much has changed.

“God, we never should have waited to find him.” Clarke groans, throwing her head back. “This must be so hard on him.”

“It’s no one’s fault, Clarke.” Lincoln tells her soothingly, “We just have to wait until he chooses to remember. We just have to be patient.”

*

Being patient is easier said than done though. Bellamy becoming part of her life, but not knowing who she is is probably the most painful thing she’s ever had to deal with. By the time another week has passed, she losing her mind.

“Raven?” She asks, stepping back and letting her into the apartment. Clarke nearly chokes when Bellamy follows her in.

“There are pipes leaking in our apartment and they’re getting fixed but the landlord won’t let me help and I can’t watch that anymore. It’s bringing me physical pain to watch them do it so bad.” Raven says, collapsing on the couch and helping herself to the remote. “Can we hang here for a while?”

“Sure.” Clarke mutters, dropping onto the couch next to Raven and trying not to stare longingly at Bellamy. The universe is torturing her.

Octavia gets home a few hours later and is way more normal about it than Clarke is. She offers to cook and subtly kicks Clarke whenever it looks like she is about to say something weird.

“There’s nothing we can do until he remembers.” Octavia hisses at Clarke. “There’s no point freaking Raven out and risking exposure.”

“I could try and –” Clarke starts, but she knows Octavia’s answer before she’s even interrupted. They all agreed it was wrong. No one should be allowed to take peoples free will like that.

“No, Clarke.” Octavia says gently. “We all decided it was wrong. Bellamy included. He wouldn’t want you too.”

“I know.” Clarke sighs. “I’m just thinking.”

*

Raven and Bellamy leave just after ten and after one too many concerned glances and whispered conversations from Octavia and Lincoln, Clarke decides she needs to get out of the apartment. She knows Octavia is as worried about Bellamy as she is, but she can’t stand their pity. Which is how she finds herself sitting on top of a rooftop at midnight, because it’s the only place she doesn’t run the risk of running in to anyone she knows.

She’s so engrossed in her thoughts of Bellamy that she doesn’t hear someone approach until they drop down next to her. She tenses and keeps her eyes focused ahead on the skyline of the city. She looks at the intruder out of the corner of her eye when he doesn’t say anything. He’s definitely a superhuman, no one else could have snuck up on her like that. He’s tall, with long dark hair and what looks like a perpetually unimpressed look on his face. She doesn’t recognise him, which is a red flag in itself. She was pretty sure they knew all the surviving superhumans.

“What are you doing up here, Griffin?” He asks. And he knows her name.

“Surveying my city.” She says lightly – it’s an inside joke between superhumans in the last century. She finally lets herself look at him properly. She still doesn’t recognise him, but she can at least tell he’s not going to attack her.

“Our city.” He corrects her. “I’ve been here for twenty years. But I don’t mind sharing.”

“Great.” She says, bright. “Maybe you should find somewhere else to look from. You know, so we've got all angles covered.” She doesn’t want to start a fight, but she just wants to be alone.

“I actually want to talk to you about Bellamy.” He says casually, still staring ahead but tensing slightly. “I had a run in with him.”

“Who?” Clarke tries. Bellamy might not know who she is, but she’s still got to protect him. This guy could just be assuming they’re together.

“Don’t play dumb, Clarke.” He says. “I know everything about you. Bellamy keeps dying. You and his sister kept finding him. You get your powers back, he gets his memories. And then you lose him again. So you gave up and you’ve still found your way back to him.”

“Who are you?” Clarke says, trying to keep her shock at bay. How does he know that?

“Someone who’s dealing with the same thing.” He tells her. “I’m Roan.” The name isn’t even familiar.

“You’ve seen Bellamy?”

“While he’s been on some kind of fucking vigilante run.” Roan says. “Fighting a mugger and saving a kid.” Clarke can’t help the snort that escapes her, because that’s just like Bellamy. He can’t help but step in when there is someone that needs protecting.

“Did he say anything to you?” She asks, because she’s a little desperate and if he has information on Bellamy, she needs it.

“I didn’t stick around. Just warned him about exposure.” Roan tells her, looking at her with confusion. “Why haven’t you said anything to him?”

“He doesn't know who I am." Clarke sighs. 

"He sure seems to know who are you." Roan says, with a roll of his eyes. It sounds like he's not telling her something. "And you sure seem to be avoiding him." 

“Do you know something I don’t?” Clarke says, turning to him with eyebrows raised. She doesn’t like how frantic she sounds, but Roan is being cryptic and honestly, he’s making her nervous.

“I’m just saying, don’t you think it’s worth it? Once you find him? I’d go through it all again to just to spend one day a lifetime with her. Think about it.” Roan says, standing up. Somehow – knowing that he’s looking for his soulmate and losing her as frequently as Clarke loses Bellamy is what convinces her she can trust him.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel if he doesn’t remember me.” She says bitterly, kicking her foot out at the side of the building.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Roan says. “Just – don’t let him expose us. We don’t need to be found out.” And with that he’s gone, down the stairwell and back into the street.

 

**Bellamy Blake**

“Bellamy, get in here!” Raven shouts from her bedroom. The panic in her voice is what gets him off the couch and into her room at a speed that shouldn’t be possible.

“Fuck.” He mutters, stopping short before stepping into her room. The computer on her desk is putting itself back together. “What the fuck, Raven?”

“I’ve – I’ve been so much better at rebuilding shit for the last weeks.” Raven says, visibly shaking. “And I didn’t realise, I’m hardly even touching anything. And now – this. What’s happening to me, Bellamy?” She gestures wildly at the computer, which is now back in one piece. She’s got tears in her eyes and Bellamy has never seen her so terrified. Not even when he first had to show her his powers.

“It's okay, Rave. We'll figure it out. Any weird dreams?” He asks, because this can’t be a coincidence. Whatever is happening to him, is definitely happening to Raven now.

“Yes.” She says weakly, moving from her desk chair to her bed. “Last night I dreamed I got electrocuted.” _Dreaming of her own death._

“Has it only been one dream?” If it’s the same as it was with him, she’s got a week or two before she feels like she’s going crazy. He’s going to get them answers before that happens.

“Yes.” She says, running a hand through her ponytail. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Bellamy tells her. “But I’m going to get answers. I’ll be back soon.” He reaches over to squeeze Raven’s shoulder and then leaves the room. It’s time to talk to Clarke. She’s got to know something.

He takes the train to her apartment, rather than sprinting because he has to have some semblance of normalcy in his life. It’s a fifteen minute trip and he’s bouncing with nervous energy the whole way over. She’s either got the answers he’s been so desperate for or she’s going to have him admitted to an asylum.

The door of her apartment is ajar when he gets there, but he still knocks. Twice. There’s no answer, but he can hear someone moving inside. He argues with himself for a minute, but decides this is important enough to just go inside. It’s not just him it involves anymore. It’s Raven too.

He follows the sound of movement down the hallway and into one of the bedrooms. He stops when he sees a man with his arms around Clarke and a knife to her throat.

“Bellamy.” She gasps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snuck or sneaked? I’m having such a debate with myself over this. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are the warmth in my heart. Thanks for sticking with this!


	6. Let her go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy finally remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this yet, because it's not very long but I make my own rules.
> 
> I also haven't slept for more than two hours in the last thirty six, so please excuse any errors. (Send help)
> 
> Unedited because I'm too tired. Also, ten points to me for getting this up so quickly! What happened?

**Clarke Griffin**

Clarke is early in getting home. She knows that Octavia and Lincoln plan to be out until much later – they’re trying out date night, so when the front door of the apartment is open she’s immediately on alert. If she didn’t have her powers, she’d have run in the opposite direction. But with them, she can handle a home invader. What she can’t handle is a superhuman with a knife. Which is who is waiting for her in their living room.

“Kept me waiting long enough, Clarke.” Tristan says, twirling the knife in his fingers. She recognises him instantly. He’d killed Bellamy twice. She knows she’s at a disadvantage. If he kills her, she loses Bellamy forever. If she manages to get out of this, his soulmate is still alive and he’ll be back.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, cautiously stepping into the apartment. Whatever happens has to happen inside, even if she dies, she can’t risk exposing Lincoln and Octavia to the rest of the world.

“I thought that while Bellamy doesn’t know who you are, we should take care of you. That’s one less couple I need to worry about.” He tells her. Clarke knows they’re determined to wipe out as many couples as possible. She knows they were responsible for the deaths of lifelong friends Luna and Wells. But she doesn’t understand why.

“He knows.” Clarke lies, trying to make eye contact with him. If she can look at him, she can get him out of the apartment. But he knows her, knows her power and knows to look to the side of her face. She’s in so much trouble. She can’t even outrun him.

“Don’t lie to me, Clarke.” He says, reaching for her. She manages to duck out the way, tearing down the hallway. He can’t follow her onto the street, she just needs to get out the bedroom window. If she can get out with detection from anyone in the building, she can get into a public area and into safety. But he’s faster then her, arms going around her and his knife pressed to her throat before she even manages to unlock it.

“The infamous Bellamy and Clarke and I’m the one who gets to end you.” He taunts. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

“Please don’t do this.” She whispers, instantly shushed by Tristan. They can both hear it, someone entering the apartment. She hopes it’s not Lincoln and Octavia, or at least not both of them. She can’t let them get killed too. But the person who rounds the corner is the last person she expected and possibly the last person she wants to see. He can’t be here.

“Bellamy.” She gasps, trying to pull away from Tristan’s grasp. He’s going to kill her and then he’s going to kill Bellamy. And there is nothing she can do.

Or at least, she thought there wasn’t. Her power is so taboo that she hasn’t used it in hundreds of years. She doesn’t even think to use it on Bellamy, even when it’s the only thing that can save her. And she doesn’t even know if it will work, not for this. But he’s not looking at her, he’s staring at Tristan with a look that’s somewhere between confusion and horror. So she can’t even try.

“Let her go.” He growls and it looks like he’s about to spring at them. Probably thinking his strength and speed will be enough. But Bellamy can’t fight Tristan, not when he has a knife to Clarke’s throat.

“Or what?” Tristan taunts. Clarke squirms, clawing at his arm but he doesn’t even flinch. Thousands of years of killing superhumans will do that to a person.

“Bellamy.” Clarke says, struggling away from the knife, which is now pressing hard against her neck. “Bell, I need you to look at me.

“What is going on?” He asks, tearing his eyes from Tristan and finally meeting hers.

“Bellamy. Remember. I need you to remember.” She says, putting as much command into her sentence as she can. They’ve both got the ability to do it, to make people do exactly as they want. She’s watched people walk to their deaths at her command, earning her the title _‘The Commander of Death’_. But it’s such a horrific thing to do, to take away peoples free will. And it was draining. The more she asked from someone, the more it took from her. They’d agreed not to use their power anymore and never on each other. But this is important. She has to save Bellamy.

To her relief, she watches the changes in Bellamy’s face and she knows that it’s _somehow_ worked. First confusion at the words that don’t make sense, then shock and finally his face sets in anger.

“Let her go. Don’t hurt her.” He snarls again, stepping forward and looking Tristan in the eye. Clarke feels the arms around her loosen and she’s able to slip out of Tristan’s grasp.

 

**Bellamy Blake**

“Bellamy.” Clarke gasps, struggling further. He has no idea what he’s just walked into but he knows he has to protect Clarke.

“Let her go.” He growls, stepping further into the room and getting ready to start swinging punches. He might not know how to fight well, but he’s got insane physical strength behind him. Which is going to be enough to get Clarke away from the psycho with a knife. Then he’s going to get answers.

“Or what?” Tristan asks, barely flinching as Clarke squirms in his arms. He wants to tell her to stop because he’s worried she’s just going to make him mad and get herself killed.

“Bellamy.” Clarke calls, before he can come up with a response to the man holding her. He ignores her, glaring at the man holding her instead. “Bell. I need you to look at me.”

“What’s going on?” He finally says, tearing his eyes away and meeting Clarke’s.

“Bellamy. Remember. I need you to remember.” She commands. Bellamy narrows his eyes in confusion for a moment, before he’s hit with another wave of memories that this time he knows are real. She’s his soulmate. The person he loves most in the entire world. Who he’s literally died for. More than once. And Tristan has a knife to her throat.

“Let her go. Don’t hurt her.” Bellamy says, practically snarling and looking Tristan in the eye. With the memories of all this past lives, he remembers his powers. Looking people in the eye and compelling to do exactly what he says. He feels a wave of exhaustion as Tristan’s grasp loosens and Clarke is able squirm away, knocking the knife from his grasp in the process.

He watches, mostly still in shock as picks the knife up. “Don’t move.” She says, looking into Tristan’s eyes and Bellamy doesn’t want to watch, but he can’t look away as she presses it into his chest. Tristan’s body crumples and he falls hard to the floor.

“Bell?” Clarke asks apprehensively, looking at him softly. She doesn’t know what he knows. She doesn’t know what he’s remembered. Because he’s spent the last twos months trying not to think about it, refusing to accept that any of this was real, when if he’d just focussed on it, tried to remember, he would have had her back weeks ago. He’s so mad at himself for a moment. He’s wasted so much time.

“Clarke.” He whispers, “Jesus Clarke. I’m so sorry.”

“You remember?” She asks. They’ve definitely had this conversation before.

“Everything.” He confirms.

“Thank god.” Her smile isn’t strained for the first time since he met her in this life and his arms are ready when she throws herself at him. He wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight to his chest, trying to focus on the fact that they’re back together, not that he had died again, less than a month of her finding him the last time. That doesn’t matter now. They’re back and he’s going to do everything he can to keep it that way.

“Fuck, how did he find you?” He asks, after they’ve been standing in each others arms for long enough. They have a dead body to deal with.

“I don’t know. We’ve been laying low for years. We don’t use our powers.” Clarke says. “We have to get rid of him.”

*

Dealing with body of Tristan feels like some of the earliest lives they spent together, when it was just them, Octavia and Lincoln against the world. But later they wind up on the same rooftop that he had stopped the two kids getting mugged, which apparently is where Clarke comes to think too.

“Why’d you wait so long?” He asks, his arm around her shoulders and his head leaning on hers. He’s missed her so god damned much.

“We thought it would be safer not having you around. And that it would hurt less, not having you at all – rather than constantly losing you.” She confesses. “I’m so sorry. It was so selfish.”

“You didn’t look for me?” He asks, after a moment of silence. He understands why they didn’t, he really does, but it still stings. Knowing that she chose to live without him for ninety-seven years.

“It was the wrong choice.” She whispers. She has tears in her eyes that she’s angrily brushing away. “It never should have happened. If I ever lose you again, Bell, I’ll be looking for you the very next day. It’s worth it, for just this time together.”

“You won’t lose me again.” She doesn’t answer because he’s made that promise so many times it means nothing. But this time, he’s going to do everything he can to stay alive. He can’t leave her again.

They sit on the roof for over an hour, talking about the last ninety seven years they’ve spent apart. He tells her about his childhood in this life, how he always felt like he didn’t belong. She tells him about moving around with Lincoln and Octavia and how it was awkward for the first few decades because Octavia resented her for not looking for Bellamy.

“I’m really sorry.” She says again, after her asks about Octavia.

“Clarke, if you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. You’re forgiven.” He says, squeezing her hand and pressing his lips to her hair. “I understand why you did it.”

“God, what did I do to deserve you?” She asks, looking up at him with a small smile.

“You’re being punished.” He says, “That’s why I – why we keep getting separated.” She giggles, leaning over to slap him gently.

“Don’t joke about dying.” She tells him. “Hey, what were you doing in my apartment anyway? Was it just good timing?”

“I – fuck.” Bellamy curses, pulling away from Clarke and running a hand through his hair. He’d left his own apartment after finding out Raven was developing her own powers. He’d promised her he was going to get answers, instead running into Tristan. In remembering his old lives, he’d forgotten about one of the most important things in this life. “Raven’s a superhuman too.”

“She’s what?” Clarke asks, turning to look at him with wide eyes. “How?”

“I don’t know. It’s only just happened. She can,” he gestures wildly around him, “like, control technology?”

“I’ve never heard of that before.” Clarke says, standing up and following him down the stairwell. He wasn’t even aware he was leaving.

“She’s someone we don’t know?” Bellamy says after a moment. “I thought we knew all the survivors.”

“I ran into someone yesterday!” Clarke says, “Roan? He said he saw you too.”

“Ice powers?” He asks, taking a moment to remember the man who had approached him in the alleyway below them all those weeks ago. “Do you think he’s her soulmate?”

“I’ve never known anyone who doesn’t have the same powers.” Clarke says, shaking her head. “But what are the chances there are eight of us in one city?”

“Nine.” Bellamy corrects her. “Tristan’s soulmate will be close by.”

They walk to Bellamy’s apartment faster than they should, but not so fast that they attract attention to themselves. The guilt over forgetting about Raven is rapidly replacing the happiness over remembering Clarke. He remembers all to well how confused he was when he didn’t have his memories.

“Rave.” Bellamy calls, unlocking the apartment and holding the door for Clarke.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Raven shouts. “I just rebuilt the fucking TV without touching it. Oh – hey Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out with me on tumblr to stop me falling asleep because I have 9 hours before I can go to bed.. [heree](http://mynameisnotkatlyn.tumblr.com/) or [here](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life. Let me know what you think x

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't quit A Previous Arrangement, I am just stuck. I will try and add a new chapter to it as soon as I can.
> 
> Comments and kudos are the sunshine in my life. Hit me on Tumblr if you have literally anything to say about The 100 or if you have prompts and/or ideas. I love hearing it all.  
> [Writing Is Ruining My Life](http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/) or [ Not a Total Basket Case](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/)


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